"Jesus Christ, Inmate Oh! What did you do to that poor thing?!" The guards chided him as they shook their heads and walked over to escort him back to his cell.

"Nothing..." He shook his head. "I didn't even talk to her."

"Whatever. Let's go back. Waste of time..." Another guard shrugged.

"Wait, I think that letter is for me. Can someone go get it?" Sangwoo asked. "Please?"

Manners got you everywhere with the guards.

A sigh came first.

"We don't have to do shit for you Inmate Oh." One noted quickly.

"But since it's going in the trash anyway... We'll send it through mail and if it gets approved then maybe you'll see it." The other added in.

"Thank you so much." He bowed his head.

"That's more like it."

The walk back to his cell was quick and for the most part uneventful. The most difficult part was going to be hiding the fact that just the sight of your face was enough to make him ache for you in ways he never could have imagined.

Even when he had kept you in his basement, he had never experienced desire like this. Why was that? Was it because he was fucking Bum upstairs all the time and didn't have the desire pent up? Was it the fact that you seemed like now, you couldn't bear to be away from him?

as soon as the door locked and he was sure the footsteps had walked away, he turned towards the wall and thrust his hand down his pants.

"YN... YN... YN... Your face is even more beautiful than I remember... What letter did you want to share with me in person? Does it declare your love for me? How much you miss me and my protection? Do you want me to be your big, strong man? In another life I could be your king and you could be my queen... But for now I want to be your knight in shining armor, sugar..." He thought to how you looked as you sprinted away from him, willing himself to ignore the whole vomiting part. "You're so sweet, like candy. I want to taste every inch of you and keep you to myself... Yes... Yes..."

And suddenly his own juices flooded the inside of his prison-issued jumpsuit.

As best as he could with the cheap toilet paper, he attempted to clean himself up, thankful for not having been caught. But he knew he was playing a risky game. He loved it. He almost wanted to be caught.

Meanwhile, you were home trying to pull yourself back together and go back to your "routine". The problem was, however, that you lacked a routine. Besides the essentials of "wake up, eat, sleep, repeat" nothing was necessarily a given in your day. Your work schedule wasn't exactly normal, you didn't always feel like showering on a normal schedule and you certainly didn't have a hobby that you did on a schedule.

So here you were, painting a picture again. This time, it was more abstract. And if you looked at it just right, you thought it might be a dead body.